


who needs stars? we've got a roof

by selfetish



Series: to last through forever (and another day) [1]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ash Lynx Lives, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Healing, Japan, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfetish/pseuds/selfetish
Summary: Ash cups the side of his face as he quietly sobs, chastely kissing his eyelids, his forehead, nose, and his lips. A silent thank you for all he’s done for him, for never giving up, for caring. For being himself. They're a tangle of limbs on the porch, lost in the heat of it all. Tens, hundreds of thank-yous, there on his cheeks, his ears, his neck— none of which could really convey how he felt for Eiji.Or, the steps to remedy a fragile soul.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Series: to last through forever (and another day) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877248
Comments: 91
Kudos: 426





	1. fluffy omelettes (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash wakes up early to cook. eiji is hungry.

Some days are fine, some days are great.

One morning, Eiji had caught him up and early with the sizzle of a pan and the static of the radio blaring old R&B. Through groggy eyes he’d see the familiar sway of his hip, hear the scratchiness of his falsetto. It’s far from good, but to Eiji it’s music to his ears.

He creeps up quietly behind him, feet sliding against linoleum, and presses himself against Ash’s bare back. He feels the thrumming of his body as Ash hums to himself and his bones molding perfectly into his chest. Eiji props his neck onto his shoulder and inhales his gunpowder-and-pine scent. All the dopamine in his being releases at once and Eiji feels like he’s on cloud nine.

“Morning to you too,” Ash greets with a laugh, turning his head to meet Eiji.

“Smells good,” tells Eiji, lips tickling his fair skin. 

“Me or the food?”

“Both.” Eiji holds him closer as he shifts his weight left to right, left to right, following his sways as best he could. Ash fills the room with his chuckles again, overpowering the crooning coming from the radio.

“I haven’t showered yet, y’know.”

“All the better.”

“You’re weird, bunny.” Eiji raises a brow at the new pet name, flashing him an incredulous expression. 

“I’d rather think of myself as a lion, tiger, something like that,” explains Eiji as he bit at the junction where his neck met his shoulder. He is rewarded with a soft moan and shivers that racked his entire body. Eiji is warm with wanting, a desire to keep him like this forever in his arms. “I’m hungry,” husks Eiji lowly as he watches Ash’s ears and shoulders blazon red.

“Wrong H word,” Ash snides, gaze downcast as he focuses all of his attention on his cooking. He plucks a thickly cut piece of bacon from the plate beside the stove and offers it to him. “Bite.” Eiji does as he’s told and sinks his teeth back into Ash’s skin, a delicious salty taste that is all too familiar. He kisses the mark all better, swipes his tongue over it until Ash’s cowered over the stove with ragged breaths and sweat. “‘S too early for that.”

“Told you I’m hungry,” murmurs Eiji, observing Ash’s undoing, feeling him get all hot and bothered from these sensations alone. “Not going to let me starve now, are you?”

“‘Course not.” Ash flicks the gas off and turns around, hands clasping onto the waistband of his sweatpants. He smiles and it lights something up in Eiji, a darkness that had nestled itself in his chest cavity. And when Ash plants his lips on his, fireworks go off there. Sparks fly from their bodies as Ash guides him into a dance, a jive around the kitchen. He hopscotches to and fro in quick steps, rocking side-to-side with every syncopation, possessed by good vibrations.

“Couldn’t sleep a wink last night because of your snoring, so I watched a bunch of those stupid one-minute cooking videos on Instagram,” Ash murmurs, breath tickling the shell of his ear.

“I don’t snore!” Eiji blurts defensively, playfully pushing him away. “ _That loud_ , at least.”

“Pfft, _anyways_ —”

“You snore too!” he jabs, pinching his cheek.

“Like you’d know,” Ash laughs, pinching his cheek back. “You’re asleep by the time you can hear any of my ‘snoring.’ An old man like yourself sleeps so early—”

“Jerk!”

“Truth hurts, I know. But I still love you. Now, _as I was saying_ …” Eiji swallows his pride and rests his head on Ash’s chest in defeat. “I watched this one video, and it said if you beat your eggs enough, you can make this super fluffy omelet.”

“Really now?” Eiji asks, though he’s far from interested in what he's whipped up for him. He can only relish in this moment, swaying in his big hands, zoning everything out except for his grinning face and his silly anecdotes.

“Yeah. I woke up a bit earlier to give it a go, and as you can see, I used the whole carton of eggs—”

“You _what_?”

“—It took me a couple of tries to get it but I got it eventually, and _hoo boy._ Crazy that a couple of eggs could inflate into this cloud of goodness. It’s fucking immaculate, babe. I’ve been cooking wrong my entire life.”

“ _Barely_ —”

“Don’t rain on my parade now! C’mon. I’ll lead you to your seat. You’ve gotta try it.” That he does, never letting him go. Like a gentleman, he scoots the wooden chair out, patting it down for Eiji to sit in. “On the menu today is bacon, an omelet, ‘course, with no cheese, and coffee. Half cream and sugar.”

He looks down, letting the smell of freshly brewed coffee fill his senses. He takes the mug (#1 Dad it read— Ash, the cheeky bastard) and blows away the vapors, sipping carefully. It travels down his body, mazing through until it drips thickly into his belly.

Ash slides him a full plate of piping food. On the rare occasion Ash cooks, it’s always in those large American portions that make Eiji full upon eye contact. He wasn’t kidding when he said he went through their entire carton of eggs (that he’d bought just yesterday!), as a thick omelet was practically crawling off the edges of the dish.

“This is so much! I don’t know if I can finish all of this,” Eiji rambles, staring saucers at the breakfast.

“Food’s gonna get cold with all that talk. Dig in. I wanna savor that face you make when you taste my culinary skill,” Ash gloats with a smirk, shrieking in the chair beside him and leaning in close with interest.

“Oh, you’re so full of it!”

“You’re gonna bite your words when you try it.”

“I’m never letting you cook again if it’s bad.”

“Whatever, don’t care. Eat,” he urges excitedly.

Eiji sighs in faux-resignation, smiling at Ash’s enthusiasm. He cuts into the omelet with the side of his fork, noting how Ash scooted forward to view his reaction more intimately. Purposely, his guides the egg-delicacy painstakingly slow to his mouth, almost bursting out in laughter as he swears he sees a drop of sweat roll down Ash’s forehead. He clamps down, chewing once, twice, thrice, finding the texture of it absolutely perfect.

“Shoft, butt’ry,” Eiji lists, now chomping on his bacon and shoveling more of his omelet into his mouth. “Ish tashty! I’m shuprised!”

“I’m glad.” Ash looks at him dreamily, under those fluttering lashes. His eyes are sparkling, glittering, full of stars Eiji hadn’t seen in so long. For a moment, Eiji believes he’s there with him, Ash of the past. The way he’s looking at him, chin propped up on his palm, lips stretched into a grin makes Eiji’s heart pound like a boy kindling his first love.

“You’re not going to eat?” Eiji asks, fixing his gaze at his emptying dish. It’s too much for him, Ash here and now. It gives him hope for something he doesn’t _want_ to hope for. He looks so radiant today. He’s got this white, fuzzy glow around him, this sheen to his scarred skin. His eyes are a more vibrant shade and it makes Eiji _melt_.

“Stuffed from watching you. I’ll probably eat later. Besides, kinda in the mood for something else.”

“Oh, like what?” Eiji gives him that oblivious look, the playing-it-dumb, spell-it-out-for-me look.

 _Right._ As an ex-gang boss, he _must_ be calculating some kind of grand plan. Something meticulous and cunning. (Little did Eiji know, it was none of those things. Ash's mind is filled only with thoughts of him, only him. Snippets of conversations he’ll remember forever, the way his hair feels between his fingers, his nails digging into his back as he takes him again and again and again…)

“I want you.” 

Eiji laughs nervously, putting the mug directly in front of his face to hide his coyness.

“I want you,” Ash repeats, making sure Eiji responds this time around, leaning until their knees touch. Again, Eiji chuckles.

“I heard you the first time.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Is this your way of being romantic with me? Making me a nice breakfast, dancing, and now _this,_ ” Eiji snorts, rubbing a hand gently on Ash’s knee.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all! You’re just so adorable!” He twirls a strand of hair with his finger, mischievous eyes twinkling, taking his chances to _hope_ for his optimistic self to emerge again. “Keep going. I like it.”

Ash puffs his cheeks.

“I’m horny too,” he says bluntly, not wanting to waste time dilly-dallying when he could be doing other things. Eiji slaps his own forehead, quite frankly not feeling the romance.

“A-At least butter me up first! Tell me things like… I dunno! Why do you want me?” Eiji asks, long lashes skirting his cheeks, eagerly awaiting an onslaught of sugary compliments.

“You suck at dancing.”

“ _Whaaa_ — Aren’t you supposed to be flattering me?”

“It’s cute. And your ass happened to look especially good today. Maybe it’s because of that little stunt earlier at the stove. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop and now I’m horny.” Eiji chokes on his food.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You’ve got a real way with words. Swept me right off my feet.”

“Want me to go on?” Ash smirks at his sarcasm. “There’s so much more I want to say.”

“Then… _How_ do you want me?” raises Eiji cautiously. Ash, visibly thriving off of Eiji’s flustered appearance, slides his hand onto his thigh. His hand travels further up, fingers raking over to his inner thigh. 

“How…?” 

Eiji bites his lip as different Ashes come to surface. He wades in them, water warm in some places and cold in others. Where it’s sunny and the depth is shallow, he sees Ash dimpled and glowing, cracking jokes and talking an ear off. Where it’s cool and salty, Ash hovers over him, shields him, keeps him close. The ocean’s red here. It’s blood, Ash’s blood, Skip’s, Shorter’s, as he lays his life on the line for him. The further Eiji trod in these memories, the more frigid it became, the higher the tide. He sees a forlorn man, a shadow cast by the man he loves, stuck in an unchanging past. He’s full of regret, sorrow, and an unspoken hatred. A hatred Eiji dares not confront.

The nip at his ear snaps him out of his trance. Eiji sighs as Ash begins to pepper kisses along his jawline.

“I want you on your back, saying my name, clinging to me,” rasps Ash. Eiji drapes his arms over his shoulders. He hums and rewards him by suckling on his pulse. “I want you to feel good, to always feel that way.” (Eiji could say the same.)

“How will you make me feel good?” moans Eiji against the nape of his neck. Boldly, Ash’s fingers dance to the front of his pants, palming his growing bulge. Eiji gasps at the sudden contact, instinctively opening his legs.

“I’ll do this for you and more. Against a wall, on a table, even now—” Ash adds more pressure against him. “Every inch of you: your body, your soul. All of it is _mine_.”

“I’m yours,” Eiji coos, pulling back to smile at him lovingly. Ash hooks his finger on his waistband and strokes his length. His nails glide against his hot length, up and down without breaking his stare, relishing in Eiji’s gaping lips and half-lidded bliss.

“It’s selfish, I know,” he whispers sharply, letting Eiji rock his hips into his touch. “But I want ‘forever’ with you.” Ash grips it fully, squeezing his throbbing cock just the right amount to elicit a mewl from low in his throat. 

Eiji hates this. How easily he unravels. How easily he melts. He’s puddy in his palms, bending to each and every one of his ministrations. In this moment, Eiji promises eternity with him, body and soul and all. Despite the many layers that had stacked over him over the years, this is Ash, will always _be_ Ash at his core. Ash that loves and cherishes him.

Through his lust-hazed gaze, he sees Ash just as roused at him. Eiji’s hand magnetizes there, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he was giving him, but instead, Ash intercepts his hand, holding it in his own.

“Let me… Let me do this for you. You’ve always been so good to me… Let me, please.” Eiji hushes him by pushing his long bangs to the side and kissing him firmly there on the forehead.

Ash plays with the head, swiping his thumb over it and smearing his precum down his shaft, making it easier to jerk him off. He moves in sensual beat with the rapid synthetic rhythms blasting from a pop song Eiji had droned out long ago. The slick noises of Ash against his dick and his deep exhales makes him tilt his head back and see constellations, stuttering on the syllable of his name. The heat is unbearable with Ash sticking to him like glue, skin sticky with sweat and saliva.

“I’m yours,” reassures Eiji languidly again, moving lazily in sync with Ash’s fist. The venom is sweet and Ash can’t help but lap it all up, grabbing a fistful of his curly, raven hair and guiding him toward his mouth. Their teeth clash upon impact, tongues twining in misdirection. Ash bites on his bottom lip and pulls back. It almost feels like a farewell, a parting between lovers when he detangles from him and pecks him chastely on the cheek. Ash pumps him faster, faster, faster, so unbearably fast that Eiji begins to feel light-headed and see white.

“A-Ash— _ah!_ —!” Eiji cries out, slumping forward at the sudden pace he’d set. “Please, not yet. I’m going to— _nngh!_ ” He chokes on a sob as Ash continues to pump relentlessly, all with that fixed, blase expression. He didn’t want to finish there with only Ash’s hand, his stare. There was more he wanted to do, like those unfulfilled promises he had mentioned beforehand.

“It's alright—”

“I can't— _Shit._ ” He tries to push his arm away, to stop him, but Eiji can't find the strength to do it when he’s making him feel this _great_. Ash tugs him a bit harder as if to tease him, telling him not to fight it and succumb to the rising pressure. Eiji can only move with the currents, riding out his pleasure with Ash guiding him with a helping hand. It’s rapid, strong, just like how Ash loves him.

“Relax. Let it all go.”

Eiji could _burst_ at how tender he was being with him despite the aggressiveness at his groin, but he shivers instead.

 _Relax. Let it all go._ These were all things _he_ was supposed to tell Ash. In frustration, he thrusts into his hand, tightly gripping his shoulders until he felt himself on the fringes of his climax.With the encouraging smile gracing Ash’s expression, he knew he was in warm water. Today is good, great.

Eiji shudders as he spills into Ash’s palm, panting at both the physical and emotional taxation. Ash releases the breath he’s been holding the entire time, grimacing as he rubs it on his pajama pants.

“The face you were making… I couldn’t help myself, Eij. I’ll make it up to you,” whispers Ash, caressing the side of Eiji’s face. He leans against his touch, exhaling shakily as he plays with his bottom lip with his thumb. “I promise.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Eiji coos, petting his hair. “I’m happy… That you’re happy today.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” Eiji glosses over, kissing the top of his head. “You know I love you right? So much.”

“I do.” 

Eiji scrunches his nose.

“On second thought, maybe you _do_ need a shower.”

“Join me?”

“You're pushing it, Callenreese.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a collection of intimate moments i wanted to write to explore the "what-ifs" if ash lived and the dynamic between the two boys after the events of banana fish. :-) chapters will relatively be around 500-3k words,,, it won't be chronological to keep it spicy ahaha
> 
> thank u for reading!! stay safe out there!!


	2. jugemu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash is asleep on the table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on the Japanese language, so there are some words that are not in English. Hopefully context is enough to define them ahh,,

"I'm home," Eiji greets, stepping inside. He slips his Oxfords off neatly on the welcome mat and slides the door behind him quietly, taking note of the dark silence before him. 

Maybe Ash is out for an evening walk. It was nice at night, especially in the country. Out here, you can see the stars and milky way, the constellations Ash had only read about in books. In July, the cicadas sing lullabies and the canal flows steadily, rocks lapping the currents sensually. Fireflies flicker at your ankles, lighting a path for one to get lost in. (“Follow the red lanterns home if you ever get lost,” Eiji had advised Ash—who got swept up by the natural serenity of their new life—once after searching for him for a good hour. He doesn’t leave the house without his phone anymore.) 

It’s a shame, Eiji thinks, that he went out and left without him. (Though he doesn’t blame him, considering how late he comes home after night shoots in the city. He needs the fresh air.) He wanted to tell Ash about the Hercules he saw in the sky from his walk home from the station, wanted to connect the dots and show him himself while they lay on a bed of grass. Perhaps, another day. Summer is long. He’ll have many more opportunities.

When he flicks the lights on, he’s pleasantly surprised (and somewhat relieved) to see Ash’s red high tops lazily kicked off to the side. Eiji puffs his cheeks, neatly arranging them next to his shoes. He steps up to the vestibule and slides the door open to the dining room, noting the pizza box on the table. Lifting the carton up, he sees that Ash had _so_ generously left him three slices. Then, he shuffles out and upstairs, assuming that Ash is probably doing whatever nerd things he does in bed. He can imagine it now, barging into their room and seeing Ash under the covers with his nose buried deep in a book, looking up from his glasses with a smirk. (“Ash, the shoes again!” he’d scold lightly. “Thanks for rearranging them, sweetie. Warmed the bed up for you.” And then all would be forgiven.)

It’s dark up here too, halls empty with only the faint blue glow through the _shoji_ to their room. He must be watching one of those obnoxious comedy shows with extreme games and hosts, picking it apart to himself as he normally does. (“Is this supposed to be funny? It's weird!” “It's _hilarious._ Of course _you_ wouldn't think so! Americans like you don’t have a single funny bone in their body.”)

He takes the duffle bag slung around his body and holds it in his hand, sliding the door gently.

“Ash—”

Oh.

There by the futon, Ash was stretched out over the low table with papers and books scattered around him, his laptop faintly droning Japanese. Eiji holds his breath, shuffling his socked feet into the room.

He's asleep. It was a sight to see him sleeping first considering he was quite the night owl. Eiji teases him in his head, feeling like he had a victory over him after being called _ojiisan_ by him so many times.

Eiji places his bag near the door and smiles to himself, heart filling with warmth at the tenderness in the moment. He settles down next to Ash at the side adjacent to him and listens to his steady rise and fall of his chest. He, too, rests his head against the table, watching his peaceful face as he slumbers.

“You'll get nose marks if you leave these on,” he whispers to himself, gingerly plucking his glasses off by the bridge. He tucks them away to a space not occupied by clutter. A handout catches his eye as he does this, a page full of hiragana that spelled words out that sounded the same but spelled differently (T _he Importance of_ Nobasu _)_. He picks it up and raises a brow, then another ( _What’s the Difference Between Hiragana and Katakana?)_ , and finally blocks out Ash’s exhales to listen to the video that had been playing in the background this entire time. 

On the screen is a man performing _rakugo_ before a crowd, a one-man show that acted out different types of stories. He recognizes this tale from childhood; a story about a father who couldn’t come up with a name for his son. He’d go to the priest for suggestions, only to give his son a ridiculously long name that consisted of all of the priest’s suggestions.

“[ _Jugemu_](https://youtu.be/XTVeNE2wO5c?t=458),” Eiji says absentmindedly, chuckling as soon as he hears the tongue-twister of the name befall the lips of the performer. Often, his mother would tell him this to make him laugh whenever he was feeling down or when it was time for bed. He wonders how Ash would’ve reacted to this if he were awake, if he’d laugh at the simple punchline or smirk at its goofiness.

—Hell, he wonders how Ash even _stumbled_ upon such an obscure topic. He’d be the type to watch supernatural and cooking videos— cute animal videos too if he was feeling especially bored. But _rakugo_?

Eiji reaches for the leatherbound notebook at Ash’s elbow by its spine as the video echoes in the room, flipping to where a cat-patterned sticky note stuck out. In rushed, shaky hiragana is a page titled “declining an invitation” with basic sayings scrawled beneath it. There's a few words scratched out, and some bordering illegibility, but he can see he's trying.

 _Trying._ It was rare seeing him study like this—study _at all_ , for that matter—, sprawled out and exhausted like some sleep-deprived college student. Even Ash, who possessed well over an IQ of 180 and had the underworld wrapped around his finger— had things he needed to learn. It was a side Eiji had never met before, one he wanted to get to know better. Every day holds a new surprise.

Eiji starts from the beginning of the book, scanning each page. Some pages were titled lists of useful vocabulary, others were pages to just practice writing the language. Eiji sees his name scrawled in the margins a couple of times, and with each flip, the stroke lines are more solid, confident. He grins at this, proud at his little achievement. He finds a ballpoint pen on the floor by the table leg and clicks it, writing his praise next to the characters. (“Good! ♡”)

Another page is purely food. It's as though he wrote the first words that came to mind because the list had no rhyme or rhythm to it at all: _hotdog, pizza, apple, orange, banana, fish, rice…_ Ash had written _natto_ in purposely messy characters, going as far as to doodle a stick figure Eiji presumes is a portrait of him (via the black bangs and bowl in his little stick figure hand). Eiji takes it upon himself to doodle Ash next to him, tongue sticking out with devil horns adorning his head.

For a while, Eiji just sits and reads and writes and admires. The corners are tagged with dates of each study, and Eiji can't help but feel a bit out of the loop. They go as far back to March of last year, meaning Ash had been learning Japanese all on his own and in secret without ever asking Eiji for help. His face hardens at the fact. 

Eiji ponders why he's been doing this all independently or why he hadn't seen him studying whenever he was at home.

Being with Ash made him more understanding, empathetic. As lovers, they shared both thought and soul. It doesn't take long until he finds the answers to all of his questions. The answers as to why he stays up so late with caffeine pumping through his veins, why he’s so independent, and why there is no page to be found in his notebook for departures.

_Sayounara._

It had almost become a word they both had subconsciously avoided. Goodbyes are said through pats and waves, hugs and kisses. But never _sayounara._ It’s never _sayounara_ with Ash.

“Oh, Ash,” sighs Eiji, shutting his notebook and laying his head on his folded arms. He reaches out to touch him again, pushing tufts of his flaxen hair with the tips of his fingers. Eiji notices the dark circles that had formed beneath his eyes and frowns. 

He must still be thinking about that, the last time he had taught him Japanese back in New York. Together at the hideout, with the scratch of a pencil and their laughter bouncing off the walls. And then, a gunshot.

Eiji clutches the scar at his torso.

Ash had carried all that weight back here to Japan on his shoulders. His skin still had ablutions from the past, bruises he wouldn't allow to heal. Suffering in silence, he tries to keep Eiji safe in the most trivial of ways even now by learning a language all by himself.

“Silly. You're so silly,” he sniffs, letting the tears roll down his face and arms. He flicks him lightly on the forehead. “You're— _We’re_ safe now.” Eiji cries softly to himself as Ash continues to slumber placidly, oblivious to the ache in Eiji’s heart; dreaming dreams of eternities with Eiji in this foreign country. 

Eiji laments his failure to shoulder that burden with Ash— who was still fighting battles that had already been fought.

Before he knows it, Eiji succumbs to the comfort of Ash’s sedated breathing. He dozes off with his hand grasping Ash’s. They meet each other in their dreams. It's all sunshine and gold, reminders of the outside world erased from existence. They travel through a pasture full of waist-length rye, letting their worries get swept away by the wind. Here, they know no hurt. Here, they can love freely, unrestrained by the harsh chains of reality.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, Ash and Eiji are living in Japan. :'^) I figured a sort of peaceful town/village would be suitable for them ahhfh,,,, 
> 
> Updates will be irregular considering I write whenever the mood strikes me (or, whenever a particularly cute idea pops up in my head and I have to jot it down in my notes app on my phone lol). There are many scenarios to explore, so I really have no idea how long this fic will be!! I will also tag in the beginning of each chapter if it's NSFW,,, :'^O
> 
> Thank you all for the support and reading this little fic!! Much love ♡


	3. neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a normal summer day in the life of ash callenreese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the vibes for this chapter: homebody by nai palm

Ash spends a lot of his time outside during the summer. Whenever Eiji was off and away tinkering around with his camera, he’d be out here enjoying the weather, slouching on the porch with a book in hand. The air is clean here unlike the city. It’s crisp and tastes faintly of the salt water taffy he had as a kid in Cape Cod. Often, he would find himself falling asleep there on the wood to the rustle of leaves and the foreign indie ballads that would croon from the radio, reminiscent of the time he spent with Griffin along the shore, laying his head on his thighs as he recited poems from eras before them.

It gets lonely whenever Eiji isn't there with him, or when sleep can't detract him from his thoughts. He'll see people that aren't there, walk in places he isn't really in. Though now living a world secluded from the one he knew his entire life, he sees constant reminders of faces that blur with each passing day. There’s a friendship in ice-cold Coke bottles and an unconditional love in the sounds of bells from the local kids’ bikes that zoomed past their house. They pull him away from Japan and back into New York and he thinks it’s some kind of bad omen, that soon all of the months he had built up here would be snatched away by a plane ticket, a shadow, and a knife.

But there's always a nice distraction, a reminder that people are nice, they're good.

Sometimes, his name would be called at the door in two syllables (“Ash-u”) in a dulcet voice late in the morning, and he knows it's old Miss Kawamoto from across the street. Immediately, he'll grab his notebook and slip his shoes on, answering to her every beck and call. He helps her out in her garden picking seasonal fruits, vegetables and herbs (and boy, was there a lot). Together, basket in hand, they'd get lost in rows of green for hours, working until their backs had given way and the tips of their fingers had become taut. By the time Miss Kawamoto had completely filled one basket, Ash had filled five, taking it as a cue for her to sit down and watch him instead. Once Ash had become all red and burnt from working under the sun, they’d eat on the little wooden picnic table the late Mister Kawamoto had built long before he had been born.

As she prepared their lunches, Ash would scrawl in his notebook, writing new words down he’d learn from the day. He’d have Miss Kawamoto check them, making corrections and praising him in her broken English. (“Very nice, Ash-u! You are so well!”) Then they’d eat the fruits of their labor; stews with the freshest ingredients and teas made from the herbs plucked from her backyard. Ash could tell they were meals prepared time and time again; to a husband, a son, a daughter, and to grandchildren. It fills Ash with a different kind of warmth, fills a spot in his heart that had long been dormant. And even with the language barrier between them, he knows he has done the same for her. Through those affectionate pats on the back and how she’d always have aloe ready to rub on his stung skin, those home-cooked meals and lessons, he knows that this is what it’s like to love a mother, and to be loved back as a son.

He’d always come back home with a full belly, as Miss Kawamoto made it her duty to fatten him up. Before he could catch a break and resume his lazy reading on the porch, the local kids would always yell his name at the door, sometimes circling back to the backyard to pester him. But he fancies them, these gap-toothed, stubby-legged kids.

The leader of this little ragtag team was a boy with a shiny bowl-cut named Hiroto. (He imagines Eiji as a child in his image, as he was polite, kind, but also had a snarky side.) His pal was a robust little guy, Taichi, who always had candy on him. He was the funnyman, the one to joke around and goof off. And then, Sawako, a bright and shy little girl in pigtails who always hid behind the two boys. They liked to tease her, so Ash would be there to bring her out of her shell.

They’d show up with their colorful backpacks with Doraemon and Anpanman plastered on them, full of summer assignments they needed help with. Ash always welcomed them in, eager to teach and eager to learn. While he taught them maths and English, they taught him patience and understanding— what it’s like to care for children.

Maybe it’s too early to think about, and often the idea is fleeting, but if he were to have a child with Eiji, he’d want them to be like these kids: generous, good-humored, and gentle. The very thought of it makes him flustered to the point he has to rest his head on his arms, feeling he was getting far too ahead of himself. Of course, the trio keeps him busy because before he can pull himself together, Taichi is already tugging on his arm at a particular problem he’s having trouble with.

“Don’t bother Okumura-san,” Sawako had once said meekly, looking behind her overgrown bangs as she scribbled with crayons after finishing her work. “He’s resting.”

“Oku-san’s awake, see?” Taichi messed with his hair, giving him a good ol’ noogie. (They liked touching it. “Fluffy,” they’d call it. Like a baby chick.)

“ _Oku-san?”_ Ash had questioned in confusion. “Eiji’s at work.”

“You’re Oku-san, goofball!” exclaimed Hiroto excitedly, happy there was a diversion from his workbook.

“Ash Callenreese. Ash-san, remember?” he had corrected.

“But Ei-chan’s your special person, isn’t he? So you’re Oku-san,” Hiroto continued stubbornly, the other kids now looking at him wide-eyed and with a devious grin. Ash blushed all the way to the ears, hiding back in the confines of his arms.

“Y-Yeah, he is, but—”

“Hiro, you made him sad. Oku-san won’t help us anymore if you keep teasing him.” Taichi shoved his companion’s shoulder.

“You said it too!” spat Sawako.

“You said it _first_ —!”

“Okay, okay, okay. _Enough,_ ” Ash silenced, forcing his pounding heart to be steady. “Oku-san is fine, but it’s our little secret. It’s Ash-san in front of Eiji, got it?” He pressed his index finger to his lips, winking at the kids who seemed to straighten up and pull their most serious faces when tasked with keeping top- secret, confidential information. In unison they saluted and nodded their heads. “You can call me that in front of him once we’ve, _you know_.” The boys giggled and Sawako continued to nod her head with complete understanding, like she was watching a fairytale romance unfold in front of her. Ash laughed at their naivety.

He saw Skip among them, poking fun at his awkward tendencies. Skip would’ve been real good friends with them, he just knew it. He wondered if Skip was up there, soaring high knowing he was still in his thoughts, alive in moments he’d engrave in his heart forever.

The kids would leave before it got dark. Sawako would give him portraits of Eiji and him, chicks and her and her friends. Taichi would leave him with a piece of mochi from his parents’ shop, or the loose candy in his pockets. And Hiroto would leave with a hug.

After a long day, he’d _finally_ get his alone time, of course, spent with the likes of Salinger and Fitzgerald and doze off to the sweet taste of taffy, stew, and mochi.

Before he knows it, it would be evening and Eiji would nudge him awake for dinner. Lately, it's been charred mackerel, rice and soba, but Ash never complains. He's grateful for whatever Eiji whips up for him, especially after a long day of work (unless, of course, it's natto). He'd talk about his clients and the oddities he had found in the city. Ash would show him his new sunburns and add to the list of things Eiji constantly worries about.

“I should buy you sunscreen!” 

“Psh. Who even wears sunscreen?” And Eiji would blabber out the three skin cancer facts he knew at the top of his head and Ash would laugh until his gut hurt. 

It's nights like these that give him purpose, and people like him in this backwater town that give him the strength to take a step forward.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual, i wrote this on my phone ahhhh so it might be a little wonky until i get around to editing. this was originally going to be longer but i decided to split it into another chapter. will probably post it later in the week. :-) & characters mentioned in this chapter may return. thank you for reading!!


	4. laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eiji's shirt brings back memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well aren't i on a roll? this was originally going to be a part of last chapter but i thought it'd be better for it to be its own. posting this before i start hating it lolol.
> 
> the vibes: just the way you are by james smith (billy joel cover)
> 
> should mention i made a playlist as i do with all my fics,,,, they're all soft songs if u ever wanna sleep or vibe lol : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ZPGNO1R8PNOKvnClMMUOF?si=32De_E5bSUql12ZQDznuvg

There are a few lucky days in which Eiji comes home early. He’d always find it ironic when it was during the golden hour of the day (it’s the only photography term he knows) when the sky bled to warm oranges and saffrons. 

Dates are mostly at the house. Movies while cuddled up in bed, board games, mini photo shoots... Today, it’s laundry. 

“Haven’t seen this in a while,” says Ash, smiling at the pink shirt adorned with that weird bird character he’d see him wear a lot back then. He brings it up to his nose and it smells of citrus and honey. It wraps around him in pretty orange ribbons and hoists him up into a dusk sky where he floats on clouds.

This is Eiji, his favorite fragrance. Some things just don’t change, Ash muses. His scent always had that _magic_ of calming him down and clearing his head. 

“Let me see.” Eiji finishes clipping a pair of Ash’s jeans on a clothesline and turns around to inspect the article of interest. He squints his eyes to block out the sunrays, walking closer to Ash with his forearm against his sweaty forehead. Eiji sits next to him on the porch steps, fanning himself with a hand. “Shade feels nice,” he comments, wiping his face with the hem of his tee. He throws his head back and lifts a knee up, letting the breeze cool his skin off. Ash watches the beads of sweat travel down his neck, some stopping at his clavicles, others slipping past and disappearing under the cotton of his shirt. He gulps and shoots his gaze down at his lap, having a staredown with the bird. “Need a hand?”

“Sure,” stammers Ash, biting his lip. Eiji scooches close to Ash until their thighs touch and plucks one of Ash’s hoodies out of the pile, neatly folding it. He looks completely away this time, stubbornly flustered by the cuteness of his boyfriend.

“You’re still embarrassed? Even after all of this time?” Eiji teases, picking up on the color on Ash’s cheeks. He pushes himself onto Ash, trying to force him into looking into his eyes.

“Still not used to this,” Ash explains shakily, moving his head a fraction so he could watch him through his peripheral vision. Who could keep a straight face at those big brown eyes and that charming grin? “You, being this close to me, so close that I can see my reflection in your eyes. I’ve always been okay looking at you from far away so…”

“We’ve been together living together for over a _year,_ ” points out Eiji, tilting his head to the side as he normally does when he doesn’t understand something. (It should be criminal to be this adorable.)

“I know… I just… It’s hard to believe,” he articulates to him as he traced the character on the old shirt. Ash closes his eyes, letting memories flood over him. Memories of that apartment on Fifth. Mornings with Eiji in that pink shirt dragging him out of bed and eating stinky natto. Afternoons reading books after a visit to the library. Nights filled with canned beer and childhood stories. Who knew he’d have a full year of days full of these things and more? Waking up at his side, kissing him, touching him. Who would have thought he would find his peace in a countryside with him over six-thousand miles away? “It’s hard to believe I’m here with you. Like I'm in a dream I don't wanna wake up from.”

“Like a dream, huh?” he snides. Eiji waggles his brows, nudging Ash with his elbow. Ash nods slowly.

“Back then, this seemed impossible given the circumstances. I had to stop myself from coming onto you because you had all of _this_ to come home to.” Ash chuckles as he remembers the shadow of his old self, pining after Eiji every second of the day. “Being under the same roof at the hideout, the apartment…God, you made it so hard. I'd have to sneak little touches without being too forward. An arm around your shoulders, a pat on the back, high fives… Now I can touch you all I want. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“It _feels_ real, doesn’t it? The breeze? The sun on your skin? My lips on yours?” Ash exhales the breath that had been caught in his throat and Eiji chuckles. “You were able to find your way down that mountain. Now you're here. You're _home_.” He’d gone silent, concerning Ash.

Eiji’s crying again because of him. Ash fists the shirt at his lap and furrows his brows, regretting his choice of words. Regretting he’d ever opened his mouth, opened himself up. His heart stings with every teardrop that broke through his glassy eyes. His tears are pain in its truest, darkest form, and Ash feels himself crumbling.

“I’m sorry. I’m s—”

“No. You’re mistaken. I’m happy, Ash. So, so happy.” He sniffles and wipes away his tears with the back of his hand. “You’ve come so far. I’m proud of you.”

Somehow, he still finds it in him to give him the most dazzling of smiles. Even with all the snot and tears and sweat and grime, Eiji is the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. It’s because of him that he’s still able to live. It’s because of him that he’s able to love, and hope, and have faith again. 

Ash cups the side of his face as he quietly sobs, chastely kissing his eyelids, his forehead, nose, and his lips. A silent thank you for all he’s done for him, for never giving up, for caring. For being himself. They're a tangle of limbs on the porch, lost in the heat of it all. Tens, hundreds of thank-yous, there on his cheeks, his ears, his neck— none of which could really convey how he felt for Eiji.

Before Ash could go in for another peck, Eiji covers his face with his arm, breathless and breathtaking. Ash backs off to admire his splayed form beneath him, polo shirt wrinkled and untucked from his jeans. He wrestles with him, wanting to see his face, wanting to share every emotion and sensation with him. Happiness, embarrassment, lust, love— he wanted to lap it all up and get drunk off of him.

“I’m gross right now,” Eiji whines in defeat. Ash pins his wrists to the surface beneath them before he can put his walls back up and assaults him with another onslaught of smooches (wherever the lips could touch).

“No, you're perfect,” tells Ash, laying down on top of him. He rests his head on his chest and listens to his pulse. They thrum in one body, and the world seems like it has stopped just for them. When Eiji puts his arms around him and looks down to kiss him, Ash thinks that maybe, this is what being alive truly feels like. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully yall dont mind the sporadic updates. amkfmk
> 
> thank you for the support again on this fic. i'm having a real blast writing for these two in cute scenarios. :-)


	5. red shorts (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash is a bit of a voyeur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut is not my strong suit lol,,, but i hope u enjoy! :'-) 
> 
> also changed the description of this fic because i feel like it's too angsty for what this fic really is which is a soft, domestic romance lol. the angst will come much, much later when i start implementing arcs,,,
> 
> the vibes: subside by eloise

The circadian rhythm works in strange ways. The day starts at ten o’ clock. For Eiji, it starts at six.

Ash doesn't blame his boyfriend’s sensitivity to light, not at all. See, Ash was hot-wired to get up later than the average person. It was socially acceptable for him to get up at ten, but if he had it his way, it’d be at one. (A guy like him needed all the rest in the world; his body ate energy up in a matter of seconds.) What he does blame is his own incompetence to stay asleep. Being a light sleeper has kept him alive all these years, but now, it was useless— nothing but a bug in his system. 

A creak at the door? He’d already be sitting up in bed, putting an arm over Eiji protectively. A rapping on the window? He’d grab the closest thing next to him (right now, it’s _Kafka on the Shore_ by Haruki Murakami) and be up on his feet. Then, after finding out it’s just nature playing tricks on him, he'd lay in bed and stare at the ceiling until eventually, the sun comes up and Eiji starts his routine.

Lately, it's been quiet, but Eiji isn’t exactly the Disney princess everyone makes him out to be. Sure, he's light on his feet, but he can feel the weight on the mattress shifting as he stretches himself awake, can _hear_ his bones crackle at particular angles— sighing whenever his joints click in the right places. Then he scuffles to the bathroom to do whatever Eiji things he does. Eiji thinks that being in another room makes one quiet, but no, that's _incorrect_ because Ash has ears like a bat and can hear _everything._ From his aggressive tooth-brushing and obnoxious gargling, the way he has the faucet running on max pressure, and how he _pisses_ so loud—

Oh, but he loves him. Sweet, sweet Eiji. He’s forgiven. He makes up for it when he comes back to their room and prepares for his jog. Ash would always pretend to be asleep as he rummages through the dresser to find a pair of shorts and a tee to change into.

Today, he's making quite the mess, tossing the neatly-folded clothes onto the ground. He curses as he seemingly empties it, now putting back the clothes in unorganized clumps. Ash contemplates asking him what's wrong, or what he's looking for, but decides to wait it out a while longer for his own selfish reasons.

Eiji stands there for a moment and groans, frustrated for reasons Ash did not know. And then, after having a mini-sulk, it's business as usual as Eiji finally decides on an outfit.

Ash kicks back and relaxes, exhaling through his nose in relief as Eiji faces his way and unbuttons his pajama shirt. A couple of years ago, he'd be flustered right about now over the mere _idea_ of a half-naked Eiji. _It's indecent_ , he’d think to himself. _Look away_. But Ash has learned to appreciate the small things in life and not take anything for granted. And _boy_ , his boyfriend under the warm light of the sun is a sight to behold.

Ash bites the insides of his cheeks as he wiggles off his shirt. As if he knew Ash was staring, he turns around immediately to find the shirt he haphazardly thrown into the dresser.

His back is strong, lean with muscle that had been trained for many, many years. He can see every tendon pulling, every muscle flex with every movement: his scapula moving in tandem to shrug a tank top on, the dorsi that peaked out from the big, loose cut of the arm holes and, _oh_. Ash has the sudden urge to run his fingers down the dip of his spine, to worship the perfect symmetry of his physique. He hates being cliché, but nothing can describe Eiji the way art can. He likes him like this. He can stare at his backside for hours, finding new definitions and ripples he had never noticed before. He likes to admire the various ways sweat travels down his body after a run, how different cloths clung to his skin and—

He takes everything he thought back. Even now, he feels hot and bothered just imagining Eiji beneath him, face buried in his forearms as he takes him from behind. Back and forth, he can see Eiji contracting with the pleasure pulsing through his body and into his.

Of course Ash is embarrassed. Poor, innocent Eiji, being the star of all of the erotic scenes looping in his head. All he’s doing is being himself, and yet, he’s got Ash in a heaping pile of mush, stewing in excitement. He has to physically turn away on his side to stop these intrusive scenarios from playing in hazy snippets to let Eiji go about his morning.

Is Eiji even aware of what he does to him? It’s bewitching. He can’t help but sneak a few more peeks as Eiji hops out of his pants, exposing those thick, brawny thighs with the power to launch him over ten feet into the air. He could kill a man by asphyxiation and _wow_ , did he _seriously_ imagine Eiji doing that to him? Yikes. 

It’s the summer heat, Ash convinces himself. The _id_ in every man, that dangerous, primal desire roaring to break free. But no, it’s Eiji Okumura and his strangely attractive back and killer thighs and Adonis body, his cute smiles and soft voice.

This is bad. Very bad. That all-too-familiar sensation rushing down his belly. The perspiration dotting his forehead. The suffocating air. He couldn't let Eiji know he was watching every minute detail of the shadows shifting on his body because if he were to find out, he'd be jabbed endlessly by his sharp tongue and have his early morning plans of watching his boyfriend get undressed thwarted. (He can hear it already. _“Eh?! Kono hentai!”)_ And so, he palms his groin as if to tell it to _stay the fuck down_. For a brainiac with a high IQ, this was probably the worst thing to do to suppress himself.

He whimpers, _whimpers_ at the slight contact of his hand on his cock. _Look at him_ , the back of his mind urges. _Look, look, look._ It’s sad, really, how Ash Junior is taking the reins and steering him into absolute madness. As hard as he tried to fight back and to keep his pride intact, he opens his eyes fully and—

“Whoa, when the _fuck_ did you get _those_ ?” Ash blurts out, unprepared for what was waiting for him on the other side. There Eiji was, donning a loose fitting tank top and (he has to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing correctly) red shorts. Incredibly short red shorts without the usual black spandex underneath, mind you. Shorts that stopped a little past his butt. Shorts that exposed the farmers tan on his thighs. Shorts that were definitely _not_ helping his problem down south. 

Eiji jolts up at the sound of his voice, turning at the bed with a little hop.

“Y-You scared me!” sighs Eiji, clutching his heart as he met Ash’s widened stare. “You’re up early. Did you have a bad dream?” He’s so concerned, so _caring_.

“Nah. A little birdy happened to chirp too loudly this morning, is all.”

“I’m so sorry. Thought I was being extra quiet! I’ll be more careful.” Eiji flashes him a grin and thumbs-up and it’s enough to make his groin twitch. Ash just knows there’s a special place in Hell for him.

“You’re fine. I get to enjoy the view at least,” tells Ash shakily, leading Eiji on to his motives. Eiji, as usual, looks lost as ever and raises a brow in confusion. Ash genuinely wonders if he’s honestly this oblivious to his flirtations.

“Oh, the shorts!” He laughs airily, fidgeting with the hem of the shorts to make it seem longer. Ash nervously laughs with him as he attempts to take care of the dilemma under the sheets. “They’re from my old pole-vaulting days in high school. All my other clothes are in the wash, so I had to resort to these. It’s a wonder they still fit!”

“A real wonder, alright.” Eiji picks up on the change in tone in his voice and crosses his arms. Immediately, Ash detracts his hand away from his bulge and shoves it under the pillow.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”

Eiji’s onto him. Ash cannot afford to have his cover blown like this. He turns on his belly and smothers his face into the pillow and _fuckshitfuck_ — it just _had_ to be Eiji’s. 

“I’m okay.” No he’s not. “Don’t you have places to be? Trails to run?”

“Since you’re up, I was going to ask if you want to join me but...” Eiji’s bare feet pat towards the bed. Code red. He’s sitting there on his side, fingers threaded through his disheveled hair and _God_ , he was going to die from all of this contact. “You can tell me if something’s wrong. I’m here for you. Forever, remember?”

Ash stubbornly turns his head until one eye glares at him from behind a gold curtain of hair. 

“You’re terrible.”

“M-Me?” 

“Yeah,” Ash huffs. “You and your stupid smell and voice and face and body. And those fucking shorts.”

“Seriously?” Eiji chuckles. “Is this what this is all about?”

“So? I’m telling you what’s wrong. Everything about you is so _wrong_. Nothing about you is natural. Nobody is… Nobody’s this perfect,” vents Ash sheepishly.

“Thank you, Ash, but I know you. What’s going on?”

“It’s humiliating.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will in a second.”

“So tell me now!”

He asked for it.

And so, Ash sits up and embraces him, lugging him back into bed. He pushes him down next him, pulling him flush against his body.

“I don’t think you should go out for a jog today,” Ash whispers lowly in his ear. He contours the line at his thigh that separated his pale skin from tan.

“It’s a perfect day for exercise. Why shouldn’t I?” Eiji challenges, though he feels him quivering against him, taking note of his arousal poking at him.

“You can exercise here in bed. With me. How does that sound?” suggests Ash, making sure to to flick his tongue at the shell of his ear. Eiji moans into his hand, trying to maintain his composure as Ash rocked against him. “We’d really work up a sweat in here, don’t you think?”

“Sounds like you’re a real perv,” stammers Eiji, losing all of the spark he had a few minutes ago. No matter how tough he tried to play it, his actions always told a different story. He loves how fast he becomes undone, so unused to this friction and heat. 

“Hm. Maybe. But only for you.”

It has always taken Eiji a bit to assess a situation, but he never fails to surprise him. He doesn’t expect Eiji to move against him, pushing his pert rear onto him. He moves tentatively, as if to test the waters. He’s shy, not pressing all of his weight. His breathing is shallow, trying not give away the pleasure with he was experiencing with just Ash spooning him. 

As time passes, he’s moved on from timidness and into curiosity, figuring out what kind of movements made Ash moan the loudest. He gyrates his hips, then bounces himself on him. The way he’s moving is ungraceful and unorthodox, but then again, Ash has to remind himself that Eiji has never done anything remotely this lewd. (It’s cute, really.) Frankly, whatever Eiji does is more than enough.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it,” gasps Ash, hugging him close. He could scream at the marvelous juxtaposition of his soft ass and the hard muscles that pressed on his chest. It takes Ash all of his patience to not grab him right then and there and grind on him. “Keep doing it like that.”

Eiji throws his head back onto his chest and looks up toward him, _smirking._ When and _who_ did he learn to be so cocky from? 

The encouragement and his mewls cause Eiji to grow bolder, pushing the waistband of his shorts down his thighs until he feels the cool air on his exposed skin. Ash takes notice and looks down and _shit,_ he’s got him so hot and needy that he has to close his eyes so as to not come at the mere sight of his pale ass.

With the way Eiji had begun to rut against him almost hastily and desperately, he knew he was close to finishing. Ash offers him a bit of help by digging his fingers into the flesh at his hips and thrusting his pelvis to meet him in the middle. Eiji wails at his sudden take in charge, looking over his shoulder to show Ash just how good he was making him feel. 

“Kiss me, please,” begs Eiji, jaw hanging open as he pants. He obliges, planting his lips sloppily on his, relishing the sweet peppermint taste on his tongue. All it takes is Ash snaking his hand over his hip and fondling with the frontside of his shorts for Eiji to combust. He’s radiant, glowing. His lips are the color of maraschino cherries and his eyes of melted chocolate. His hair looks like dewy flower petals with how the sun reflects off of it and everything about him tinges a happy pink. Ash thinks this is okay, if he finishes like this with Eiji ogling him so angelically.

They lay in bed, spent before any of their days had even begun. Despite this, Ash has to wonder if Eiji will hold out long enough for him to try other things. Whatever happens, Ash knows he’ll have something to look forward to from here on out. Step by tiny step, they’re learning something new about each other, moving slowly but surely into different stages of their love.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Ash hums contentedly.  
  


"You're running with me tomorrow morning, Callenreese. No objections."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy thanks for reading!! lmk what u thought about this chapter!! whenever i write smut it's always so short so,,, maybe i'll add to this particular chapter in another installment. :'-) 
> 
> ps, u can holler at me on [twit](https://mobile.twitter.com/selfetish) for whateva reason ;'-)


	6. realms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eiji runs, and a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the vibes: present tense by radiohead

It’s far from a fairytale, this relationship built on corpses. It’s a fragile one; a word and everything could crumble at their feet, never to be fixed. Hand in hand, they walk on eggshells on the tips of their toes, balancing themselves on the fine line between redemption and destruction.

Today, Ash is mesmerized by the trail of an aeroplane overhead, wishing to be up there with it. Unbounded from this weight put onto him, floating amongst the clouds that seemed to stretch out for miles and miles. Away from this burden, from guilt. Away from him. It’s a thought that frightens Eiji, causes him to shiver at night; a reality he must face everyday whenever he looks at him, touches him, kisses him.

Yes, because as Ash chases after memories, Eiji races with time to capture his wavering heart.

“Hey, Ash?” Eiji sees it sometimes, small lapses in his personality. A smile would be there one moment, then a crack, a falter. There would be melancholy in his eyes, glassy but never shattering. Eiji would speak but the words would never reach him, never penetrate the stone that slowly stacked around Ash. Ash could be standing right there next to him, yet Eiji couldn’t find where he was.

“Oh, were you saying something?” Ash looks back, though his stare pierces right through him, almost into a _void_. He's lost and confused, straddling the realms of reality and spirits. In times like these, Eiji isn't sure if he should pull him out in that trance, be selfish and bind him to the world of the living. Here with him, even just for another moment. 

“It’s nothing. Don't worry about it. I'll probably head to the store right now. Need anything?” Eiji dawdles at the entryway for a while longer, waiting for a response from Ash in the dining room. Silence is all it takes for Eiji to understand. It’s all he ever does these days. Ash simply shakes his head and resumes his yearning for souls to somehow become tangible and warm enough to talk to and to hold instead of this cold and stagnant air they left him with. It’s an impossibility that he still clings onto for sanity and comfort, because the present isn’t enough, will never _be_ enough. “I’ll be quick,” he tells him, and he tries so hard not to make his voice crack and to make his anguish so damn apparent.

Eiji slips his sandals on and takes a look back at Ash who doesn’t even bat him an eye. He shuts the door a little louder than he should, and he feels like he should go back in there and apologize and hug him tight, tell him he didn’t mean it. That he loves him. But he can’t find it in himself to do it because these little white lies and bottled up emotions push him further and further away. And so he walks off, following the dirt path to the mom and pop shop into town.

To even think he could separate Ash from the ones he loved long before him. To think he could blow a flame that could never go out— He’s a terrible person. Eiji knows he needs to be stronger than he is right now because Ash deserves better—much, much better for what he’s been through.

But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t hurt. Watching Ash go through these episodes is an indescribable pain, like daggers digging into his sternum and dragging down to disembowel him of all of the fond memories they’d steadily built up together over the years. It’s a hopeless kind of agony in which he can only observe and self-deprecate from the sidelines as Ash fights ghosts that have long left this side of the world.

His feet seem to have a mind of their own as they’re pounding hard against the soil, calves burning as he runs, runs, runs toward the horizon. Sweat mingles with tears and his throat’s beginning to close up. He can’t breathe anymore, can only shout as he watches his surroundings fade to black. Even as he collides with the ground beneath him, everything is numb beside that pang in his heart and Eiji thinks this is what it feels like to die over and over again. Like a maimed beast, he releases the cries nestled deep in his gut and claws onto the blades of grass around him for support as he listens to his distress echo back to him. He screams until he tastes blood on his tongue, until his mind’s all white and staticky, until he empties the bottle within him.

“I need to be strong,” he tells himself in a mantra— a promise between him and the earth. “I need to be strong. I need to be strong.” And for a while, he repeats that very line like a prayer, eventually changing his _need_ to _will_.

He gets up and dusts the dirt off from his clothes. Wipes his tears and the saliva that had run down his chin. And he continues down the path, alone to fend off these harrowing voices.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bam! and a little angst. as much as i love to think ash and eiji have a perfect and sweet and fluffy relationship, there's little cracks here and there. :'^O thank you for reading. :-)


	7. fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash tries to comfort eiji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this can be a follow-up to the last chapter if you want some fluffy closure,,, :'-)
> 
> the vibes: fine on the outside by yoshihiro koseki

Eiji’s real good when it comes to keeping things locked up inside, Ash had noticed over their past two years of dating. Being stupid kind to everyone is a blessing and curse— a blessing for obvious reasons because Ash is constantly showered in love and affection, so much so that he sometimes has to use an umbrella. A curse because he’s always looking out for him, for _someone_ , making sure to “keep the peace.” Honestly, Ash wouldn’t mind it if Eiji yells at him once in a while, throws a few punches here and there and destroys some property, because right now, he hates seeing him like this; passive as a monk. Maybe being with him had caused him to be this way, to be overly attentive.

He despises his past and how it carried over into their hushed lives out here in Japan. Eiji’s so delicate with him, so _tender_ , even when he knows he’s got a lot on his mind because even now, he knows he’s still protecting him from a battle that’s already been fought. Sometimes, he thinks, if he’d touch him and really ask him what's on his mind, he’d fall apart right there. 

“Babe. You’re sighing again.”

“I am?”

“You’ve been at it for _half an hour_.” Ash folds the corner of the page he’s on and sets it on the ground, crawling over to Eiji at the porch steps. He peeks his head over to his camera, where he’s rapidly going through some photos he’d taken today. They were mostly of the eccentricity of Harajuku— the obscure rainbow attires, lolita fatigues, and other forms of streetwear. “These look great. You went to the fashion district?” Eiji hums, continuing to press the next button before Ash could really take in the talent of his boyfriend. “Whoa. Slow down, partner,” he tells him in his worst southern accent, trying to goad a laugh out of him. 

“Sorry.” Mission failed.

Okay, that would have _definitely_ got him had it been any other day. Ash lifts a questioning brow and snakes an arm around his waist.

“You alright?”

“Peachy.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Tired.”

“One word responses?” Ash smirks. “Something’s definitely wrong. You've always been such a chatterbox when you get home.”

“No—” Realizing that habit so graciously pointed out by Ash, he blushes and reconsiders his next response. “I mean, it’s just one of those days. I’m exhausted.”

Then, a smile. Right, as if that would solve anything. Eiji’s a fool to think his cuteness can get him out of this one.

“Did something happen at work?” He shakes his head. “On the way home?” No. “Then what is it?”

Eiji cups his face, caressing the curve of his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“You worry too much. I just need to recharge—”

“Is it… me?” Eiji’s grin falters and his gaze drops down to Ash’s collarbones. His hands snake down to his neck, tracing the long outline with his palms, like a sculptor to clay. Ash is ticklish there, so he suppresses his giddiness and holds him tighter, until their sides are flush against each other.

“No,” he tells him all breathily. “It could never be you.”

The way he’s trembling under his arm tells him otherwise. How he’s playing with the hair at his shoulders, twisting and curling it around his knuckles to distract himself from his thoughts and Ash’s conjectures.

Eiji’s lips look so glossy under starlight. Full and pink and soft. Ash wants to kiss him. Probably not the time nor the place, but he wants to smother his problems away with smooches, wants to hear Eiji sigh from pleasure instead of stress— loosen him up a bit so he’ll maybe then spill all of his secrets into the night.

“You can tell me anything,” whispers Ash as he leans forward, angling his head. “Anything.”

Eiji shyly pulls his head back a bit, staring at him through his thick eyelashes, considering for a moment before closing his eyes.

He’s hesitant at first, not fully melding into him just yet. It's a simple, chaste press of their lips, like falling in love all over again. Ash cradles him in his arms, letting him feel the thrum of his heart and the tune of his blood.

“Ash,” Eiji calls out as they part, holding onto his biceps. So pretty… The tufts of his fluffy bangs framing his face. Reddened skin. Obsidian stare. Like a doll— _unreadable_ like one too. What could he possibly be thinking of? Does he feel comfortable? At ease? Does he want this? 

He throws caution to the wind and captures him once more, a little more fervently, coaxing him out of that inky pool. Their lips glide like butter, resists like oil and water. Quick little pecks, open-mouth kisses. Eiji’s vibrating against him, buzzing with tentative desire. It was something, at least. Anything to beat the stillness and Ash’s worry.

“Ash,” repeats Eiji, voice hoarse, mouth swollen. Ash undoes the first of Eiji’s buttons. “Ash.”

“Wanna take this to bed?” Ash asks huskily. Eiji shakes his head, stopping his hand from unclothing him. “Too forward? I’ll go slower.” Eiji shakes his head again, and sighs.

 _Sighs_. Ash studies him long and hard, wondering what could’ve possibly went wrong. This was okay, wasn’t it? To be lost if only for a while to the flames of lust? Why does he still sigh? Why are his eyes still as dark as ever, swallowing him whole? Is this not enough? Is he not—

“Enough,” tells Eiji, stroking the hand at his collar. “Your words, your presence— They comfort me. You don’t need to do this every time, Ash.”

Back then, it was always so easy for him. Looking out for him, shielding him from the horrors of the world. But here he is, coddled time and time again by an impenetrable soul who refuses help.

Eiji is cruel. He’s unfair.

“You never… You never let me take care of you the way you have for me.” His voice begins to crack. “You’re horrible. And I’m…” Before he can even register it, his bottom lip quivers and his frustration pricks his eyes. Eiji is quick to pick up on his expression and embraces him.

“I’m so thankful to come home to such a loving boyfriend every day,” claims Eiji with mirth, letting Ash’s tears stain through the cotton of his shirt. “Crying because of me because he's so caring. How lucky am I to have you?” He chuckles, wiping his waterline with the pads of his fingers.

“I can’t believe _this_ is what it took to get you to laugh,” snides Ash with a sniffle. Eiji places his camera on the side and pats his hand on his lap.

“Come lay here,” he coos, running his hands up and down, up and down his back in loose waves. Possessed by his spells and charms, Ash curls up on his thighs, head facing their quaint garden. He counts the fireflies and predicts when they’ll flicker as Eiji plays with his hair, stroking the errant strands away from his face. “What are you thinking about?”

“You think fireflies have their own ways of communication? Like their flickering is some sort of morse?” questions Ash, suddenly regressing into a child with an insatiable thirst for knowledge on the most abstruse things in nature. Eiji hums a mellifluous little ditty and it casts a languorous enchantment on him. He’s heard this song before and the name’s on the tip of his tongue but he’s too content, too sedated to search his mind a bit further. This is nice. Eiji is nice. “I wonder what they’re saying. The fireflies."

“I speak firefly, did you know?”

“You’re full of shit, did you know?”

“I’m serious! My time in the sky has granted me powers!” laughs Eiji. It sounds better than any tune, his laughter. He can listen on repeat all day; watch it spin on a record until it becomes all scratched and warped. “Would you like to know what they’re talking about? You have to keep it between me and you, though.”

“Okay. Shoot.” Eiji tucks a tuft of Ash’s hair behind his ear and leans down, breath skirting the shell. Ash blushes at the contact and waits excitedly for whatever secret Eiji has to offer.

Instead of a secret, however, Eiji cheekily blows a hot puff of air into him.

“Asshole!” grumbles Ash, cupping a hand over his ear in surprise. “So immature!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll tell you now!”

“I don’t care anymore!”

“Aw, I was joking!” Eiji clutches his stomach in attempts to calm himself down from his chortles. He guides Ash’s hand down to his side and leans in one last time. “They said, ‘Thank you, Aslan! For looking out for Ei-chan! He loves you very much, so don't be sad anymore!’”

They’re quiet again, watching summer come alive in their backyard. The lanterns on the horizon become a blurry display of bokeh lights as he lets his tears get the best of him again.

How could he even compete with someone like Eiji? This is… This is just how he is. His heart and his kindness is his foundation and it can never change. It can never move.

“Could you… tell them something for me?”

“Sure. Anything you want.”

“Tell them I said, ‘Eiji’s a big idiot.’” Ash pouts. "'He needs to put himself first sometimes.'"

“Duly noted.”

“And that ‘Aslan loves him too. His big head and everything.’”

“‘Big head?’ Meanie!”

“You oughta teach me to speak firefly sometime then if you don’t want to get your feelings hurt.” Though in a really roundabout way, he’s glad he was able to cheer him up. Ash closes his eyes and listens to the world syncopate in a ¾ signature. Two fireflies are dancing the waltz in that big ballroom in the sky.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! <333 also, i'm always open to take prompts!!!!!! the domestic asheiji train never stops!!


	8. okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eiji tripped on a rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to Eros_Katsudon for the prompt (eiji getting injured, ash being overprotective). :'-) it's more on the angst side, but i hope it's alright. might do this prompt again in a more lighthearted atmosphere hhhhhh i'll let yall know  
>   
> also would like to note this chapter is a bit earlier in their relationship/life in their home in japan
> 
> the vibes: i don't want to be okay without you by charlie burg

Ash anxiously waits at the door, circling around and checking the kitchen clock. It’s almost eight and Eiji hadn’t come home from his run. It was unusual for him to lose track of the time like this. By now, he’d be upstairs shimmying on a neatly-ironed button-down and hopping into loose cuffed jeans with a piece of burnt toast in his mouth, making it a job to wake Ash up to the sound of the pat-pat-pat of his bare feet against the wood.

Abductions could happen anywhere, even in a sleepy town like this. Though small, a statistic is still present for men of Eiji's age and stature. With this thought in mind, Ash immediately fears the worst. The airhead had left his phone underneath his pillow this morning, so he couldn’t call him. Ash knows he likes to change his trail every week “to keep things fresh,” Eiji had mentioned once. It’d be hard to track him down on foot, so he considers phoning in the police or something— Scratch that. With his experience with the feds back in New York, they’ve proven to be unreliable. Missing persons reports for adult men don’t usually activate unless they’ve been gone for _weeks_ and Ash knows for sure he’d go mad if he had to wait that long for Eiji to come home. Japan would be no different.

The folks in town would be more of a help than government dogs, Ash concludes as he slips on his canvas shoes. He’d knock on every door, show them the picture of Eiji he took just yesterday before they went to bed on his phone and form his own search party with a band of able-bodied bakery owners and farmers. Right. With numbers like that, they’d definitely find Eiji in an instant.

Ash slides the front door open and—

“I’m home.” It’s Eiji! It’s Eiji and he’s alive and well and sweaty and handsome! Ash opens his mouth to pour his relief for his safety out on the spot, that is, until his gaze lowers and he sees it.

Red. He hates this color on Eiji.

Gushing red, right down his knee, staining his sneakers. Asphalt particles lodged in open, pink flesh. The distraught and discomfort written all over his beloved’s face as he bites down on his lip, muffling his pained sighs. Ash is overcome with an inexplicable amount of anger and rage and worry, so much so that he feels like he could go out right now and take a life.

“Who did this to you?”

“What are you talking—”

“ _Who did this to you?_ ” Ash repeats, voice cracking in attempts to suppress his wrath and not scare Eiji more than he already is.

“A rock did. A pretty sizable one, too. Sedimentary, I think? Or is it metamorphic? Definitely not igneous. Don’t think there’s a volcano around here,” he rambles, trying to lighten the mood. Ash clicks his tongue and lifts him into his arms, trying to be as delicate as can with his injury, not even bothering to slide the door shut.

"I'm going to pulverize that rock into fucking sand. Mark my words," he mutters under his breath, navigating through the hall like he could detonate a landmine.

“My hero,” comments Eiji shakily, resting his head on his shoulder.

Ash walks him to the kitchen, sitting him down on the dining table. Eiji swings his uninjured leg back and forth as Ash rummages through a cabinet looking for their first aid kit, like this was nothing to him. That he didn't have a gash on his knee and that everything's all fine and dandy and rainbows and sunshine.

“I was worried _sick_ about you.” He finds the cute, white tin box with a red cross plastered on it, slamming it louder than he would've liked against the countertop. Ash snatches the hand towel folded on the oven latch and douses it in water. “It's one thing to be out and alone and unguarded, but without your phone? It may have been a rock this time, but something _terrible_ could've happened out there and I wouldn't be able to find you!”

“Ash, I know every road and everyone and their mother _._ I know this place like that back of my hand. This is the safest—”

Ash shakes his head as he kneels down to dab away at the clotting blood, making sure to get the debris caught between his skin. “There's danger in every town, every city, every _place_ where I cannot reach you. Do you understand that?” Ash catches his incensed tone before it can inflame the rest of body and Eiji's. Eiji winces, sucking a sharp breath in through his lips, and for a fleeting moment, Ash forgets his anger and shoots his gaze up to make sure he's not being too rough. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna sting for—”

“It’s not that.” Eiji slides his hand over Ash’s, furrowing his brows. His lips are pressed so tightly together that they've turned white. The glint in his eyes are gone; now two, opaque black marbles that seal away Eiji's inner thoughts. They reflect Ash's image in all of his fretfulness, his insecurities, and shame.

“Don’t… Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers sharply, ducking his head down to the floor. Eiji’s the one who’s injured and yet he has the audacity to pull this sympathetic face on him. Ash wants to disappear.

“Ash. Hey.” He pets his hair and he feels like he could bawl at the contact, could feel his throat aching and his jaw locking to stop the torrent of emotions from rushing out. He stares straight at his leg, crimson to jade, cursing it. Hexing it for blighting him. Though, Ash partly blames himself for never being there to accompany him every morning, for being too enervated to watch out for him as he did years ago.

How could he let his guard down like this again like that time at the hideout? He’s lacking, _lacking_ right now. To think he swore to himself he’d never let Eiji get hurt. This is pathetic.

“I’m okay.” Eiji lifts his face up with his palms, cradling him like a fallen canary too hurt to carry on with his journey. He exhales slowly, patient as ever. His smile absolutely destroys him, shattering him into tiny shards of glass that further slices Eiji’s skin. 

“How can you say that? How can you act so _casual?_ We’re in a goddamned _nowhere_ miles away from home! It’s far from safe, Eiji. As long as you’re with me, then…” He doesn’t finish that sentence, doesn’t even _dare_ to explain his words, because it’s a truth he’d rather not face. This life here with Eiji is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

“As long as I’m with you, I’m home. Sharing my life with you is the greatest joy. ” His assurances only make Ash rupture, hot tears streaking down his face like spring’s first rainfall. Embarrassedly, he busies himself with gauze, breaking from Eiji’s hold to firmly wrap his knee, once, twice, thrice, until the waterworks stop. “I know this whole ‘trust’ business is hard, darling, but it’s okay to let go of all of the weight of the world and take a step forward. I’ll even let you hold my hand!” Eiji winks, airy chuckles bubbling in his throat. He drums his fingers on the nape of his neck, like little kisses from his fingertips consoling him. “Everything will be alright. You’ll see.”

“How? How can it ever be?”

“We’ll keep trying.”

For years, Ash knew how to protect himself, to survive in such an unforgiving world. Here and there, a few tears would suffice in temporary healing. But right now, wailing like a baby, heaving his fears for the future out to Eiji— It’s _precious_ to him, showing Eiji this part of him that had been long repressed. Makes him believe, if only a little, that things will start to look up. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading =) the support on this fic is insane ahhh i cant thank yall enough. <33333


	9. in limbo (part 1) (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eiji does not want to want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yearning™ the chapter, part 1
> 
> the vibes: skin by dijon

It’s the little things that set them off. Too-wet pecks or vanilla-whipped words. Rosy cheeks and sticky skin. Lonely afternoons and bitter nights waiting for the last train home. They’re lit matchsticks tossed into a pool of gasoline that rupture into an inferno of carnal cravings.

Tonight, it’s a seemingly innocent kiss goodnight right before they shut their books and lamps off. _Seemingly._

Ash is subtle, quick with his brushstrokes. He knows how to blend colors into beautiful gradients; knows how to blur the line between chaste and racy. And Eiji falls into his trap every time, letting simple osculation turn to hot touches, to exploration, to entanglements, to not-so-simple osculations on not-lips, et cetera.

They'd been together long enough for Eiji to catch on to his tactics. He knows how long he’ll suckle on his neck and the exact shade of violet they’ll leave on him the next morning. He knows where Ash’s hands like to trace, where they like to linger, how hard they like to press. (He particularly likes holding him by his hips. Ash loves the feel of the fat of his thighs resting on his thumbs and the sculpt of his torso as he straddles him.) 

Eiji is his marionette. Pulls his head back on command and sighs whenever he calls for it; when his tongue feels a little too sensitive on his chest, his collarbones, his jaw. He always pulls the right strings to get him to dance and writhe against him in his own private little show starring the bounce of Eiji’s pert rear end on his crotch with a special guest appearance of his dick poking underneath pajamas.

A snappy remark and a smirk. _“You're needy today,”_ or something along those lines. But Eiji will neither confirm or deny because Ash always knows truth from lie.

Ash had told him the heart was his favorite muscle. _“It's the most honest part of the human anatomy, the most dominant.”_ Honest in the way it jumps whenever falsehood is spewed. Dominant in the way it makes its presence known through the body. There, pulsing in the wrist, the slope of the neck, chest and—

“Did you think about me at work?” asks Ash cockily, looking up through mussed hair at the apple of his eye. It’s his way of getting Eiji all hot and bothered, questioning him like this. Interrogating him, a prisoner of his love. “You’re all riled up from this alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“You must’ve,” says Ash, intrigued by the tent in Eiji’s pants. “I’ve got my evidence right here. _Hard_ evidence.” Flustered, Eiji fists the cotton Ash’s shirt and looks out the window, feeling the burn of Ash’s pupil go from the magenta bruising at his clavicles and further down. ( _How does he even come up with these sayings?_ ) He gets all grabby, feels the throb of Eiji’s heart wrapped in a blue-striped box between his legs. Eiji reflexively thrusts upwards. Ash smizes and delivers.

“Of course I thought of you. I always do, but not in that _way_ ,” Eiji whines, but there’s no point in justifying himself when Ash is already making light work of his dick and turning him into jelly.

“Your heart’s beating so fast. You’re lying to me.” He tugs Eiji tight and chuckles at his misery; so mellow and warm and _nice_ despite the absolute depravity down south. “I’m _hurt_.”

Ash touches him soft, like he’s as fragile as gilded china; cradling him by the cheek, milking him gently now with a loose hold. He plays with his pliable lips, swiping his thumb over them, watching them redden like rose petals under lemon sunlight.

Eiji feels a bit confident— sexy even, and laps at the pad of his thumb; taking it into his mouth. Surprised at the suddenness of his dear, sweet, _innocent_ Eiji, Ash’s mouth hangs open. Blond lashes blink once, twice, thrice before a grimace mischievously stretches onto his face at the realization that his cute bunny moonlights as a sly fox. Curiously, he presses his index and middle finger there, and Eiji readily takes them in, sucking each knuckle; letting his tongue swirl in ways he wants to taste him intimately. Long stripes at the sides. Nips at the tips of each digit. Hums as he takes the entire length into the hot cavern of his mouth.

“Damn, Eiji. Do you know what you do to me?” he pants. Ash has that look about him. That _glow._ Very affectionate. Very dazed. Extremely thirsty.

Ash starts to peel their clothes layer by layer when his imagination is no longer enough; starts to ramp things up a bit with the languid movement of his arousal against Eiji’s. Time after time, Eiji will still blush at this— focused on finding words to counter Ash’s silver tongue and the embarrassment of his inability to form his snarky thoughts into coherent sentences. He communicates strictly through mewls and moans; lewd sucks of Ash’s fingers in his mouth as he gets off on his spit-slicked palm jerking faster, faster, _faster._

“What do you want?” The audacity of this man. Does he expect Eiji to answer with his knuckles caught between his tongue and teeth? Silly. So, Ash takes his fingers out for him, making a mess of his spit over his lips, watching it shine under artificial light; making it trail the outline of his heart-shaped face, down to the tip of his chin.

Eiji wants more. But he never asks for anything past this, no.

They’re in limbo, never going past _that_ boundary. It almost seems too forbidden a concept, a danger zone. A floodgate of all the memories Ash had worked so hard to move past. How could he tell Ash that he wants to be with him, joint by both body and soul, when it’ll only bring him pain? This is enough. _Will always be enough,_ Eiji had convinced himself, letting himself become another unfinished painting.

“What… What do _you_ want?” Eiji asks, back to being demure. His voice is hoarse, throat dry.

“Dummy. I’m asking _you_.”

“...Then, how about a kiss?” Eiji leans down, pressing his nose to his. Ash quickly pecks him before stopping his brisk stroking to grip him fully.

“Wanna try again?”

“I-I’m being _honest!_ ”

“You might be, but your _cock_ isn’t—”

“Ash!” he stammers, absolutely dreading how coarse and vulgar the consonant sounds in his tone.

“What do you want?” he repeats, this time, kinder and gentler.

“Want to be… _with you,_ ” Eiji surrenders, letting his chest be coaxed onto Ash’s.

“You’re already with me.” Ash wraps his arms around him in a warm hug, a far cry from his earlier ministrations. Eiji’s nails scrape his shoulders as he fits his profile in the crook of his neck, learning him. Breathing him in. His pulse is practically vibrating in his veins, and Eiji knows he’s lying too. Smart man like him knows how to read between the lines. Knows _exactly_ what he means.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

His name leaves Ash’s lips in a heated sigh, hands massaging up his back and threading through the tufts of his hair. “You could never,” whispers Ash.

“I don’t want _anyone_ hurting you.” Eiji’s close to crying. He could feel the tears welling up just at the thought of demons that no longer walk the earth, inflicting their malice on his beloved for their own sick, twisted pleasure. Ash should never feel pain like that again, relive it, _remember_ —

“I wanna be with you too. Wanna _love you._ ” His heart is steady and true. Eiji ogles him with wide, kaleidoscope eyes. “Just wanted to hear you say it. That you want me, damaged as I am.”

“Idiot.” Eiji pummels his chest in light pounds of his fist. “Stupid-head. Poop-face. Birdbrain,” fusses Eiji, dotting his face with smooches. “ _I love you._ Everything.”

“Do you now?” Ash takes his arm in his hold and plants a kiss there on his wrist, confirming his words. “Oh. You’re honest.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve got a lying streak. Always saying one thing when you want the other. Be selfish with me. Be yourself,” Ash lilts, tilting his chin up. “I won’t get mad. I’m stronger now, with _you_ by my side.”

“You spoil me too much. I don’t— _I can’t_ —”

“You _can._ Because I love you too, and I— I _trust_ you. More than anyone.”

 _Trust._ It's caught in his throat. Feels like a brand new emotion. Like tapping your toe into a steamed bath after a cold, winter night. Like waking up from a long, dreamless slumber. It’s indescribable, this sensation flourishing in every vessel in him.

Some moments need no words. Sometimes a look will suffice, a silent understanding. Sometimes it’s a tender embrace, or feather-light kisses on the cheek and forehead that calms the flames. This candlelight melds them into one, beating being; simmering them down to a cozy warmness that flickers and comes alive in pitch-black darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bait and switch. this is actually a fluff chapter in disguise --- LDFEMOFNEROWEFK
> 
> thanks for reading. :-)


	10. butternut squash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash hates october.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short one for the season change....,,,,, it's long overdue but i made this fluffy to make up for it hhhhh
> 
> the vibes: uwu by chevy ft park bird

October is the worst month.

Pumpkins, for one, rise from Hell to torment his poor, fickle soul from every corner; vines twining around his ankles to pull him down with them into purgatory. But there was more to it than just Satanic fruit with their flesh mutilated into some jagged face.

The air just smelled different— of cinnamon and Sumatra coffee and cake pop so sweet that the slight whiff of it would hit the back of his throat and prompt him to _gag._ Everything would fall into this monotonous palette of yellow, orange, red, and brown (in that exact order)— this one-track mind of espresso and longing for ghastly entities and warmth. And Eiji sat first-class in this train; back straight, legs crossed, glasses fogging from the hot chai latte in the palms of his hands as he ogled out the window at the panoramic view of Autumn metamorphosing.

Oh, he just didn’t understand the excitement. It was just another month. Another thirty-some days like September before it, albeit a bit chillier and a tad more melancholic as the sun vanishes earlier to return home to his loving family on the other side of the planet. 

Eiji had the bright idea of replacing those wretched pumpkins with its lesser-evil cousin, the butternut squash. Last weekend, he’d somehow convinced Ash to carve some faces into them ( _"T_ _hey don’t have to look scary, darling. Let’s carve some smiley faces on them with the kindest eyes and put them up for decoration! It’ll be fun, I cross my heart!”_ ) with those damned puppy eyes, and they spent the whole evening spilling the guts of squashes and giving them names and personalities. It was a first for him, inadvertently tempting his fear of jack o’ lanterns, and definitely the last as Eiji sliced his fingers because of one misstep incising a grin onto one of his squash babies. (“ _I knew we shouldn’t have done this. Look at you, now you’re hurt!”_ Ash scolded while stopping his bleeding with a towel, unwrapping Hello Kitty-patterned bandaids at lightning speed. Eiji laughed at this and told him he worries too much. But how could he not? Eiji is _Eiji_. Love of his life. Apple of his eye and yadda yadda yadda.)

They’d replaced their closet and drawers with thicker knitted sweaters and heavy coats to withstand the cruel, rancid breath of October and honestly, it may be the only thing Ash actually enjoys about the season.

Yeah. Eiji looks really nice all snug in an oversized woolen coat and hoodie and booties underneath the fold of his baggy jeans. The layers and looseness makes him look smaller than he actually is; makes him look more charming if that was even possible. He must be extra soft hugging now, like a teddy bear stuffed with down feathers. (One thing added to the list of the many things he simply _must_ try with Eiji.) 

Tonight, Eiji’s got a scarf wrapped tight around his neck as if he was getting ready for some ski trip up in the Alps.

“We’re just going out for a walk. Why are you so bundled up?” Ash asks from the door with a smirk, watching his boyfriend continue to add on to his outfit. Fuzzy socks. A beanie pulled down over his ears. “If you’re so worried about being cold, well, at least you've got _me_ to keep you warm,” he adds without a thought, catching the mushiness last minute and feeling his face share the same crimson hue as the leaves littering the ground.

“Oh, I’m not worried at all about myself. It’s _you_ ,” Eiji chuckles, and stands up from the staircase. He tugs on the collar of Ash’s denim jacket. “I think I’ll be doing all the warming up here with what you’re wearing.” 

“Perfectly acceptable fashion for this kind of weather.”

“You’ll be as pale as a sheet once we step foot outside. Mark my words.”

“I’ll be fine. Once we walk a little and get some blood pumpin’, it’ll feel like summer out there.” Ash leans against the door and crosses his arms mischievously, relishing in the childish pout on Eiji’s face and the absurdity in just how adorable he looked at that moment suffocating in wools and cotton.

“That won’t fly with me, Callenreese.” Eiji unwraps the flannel scarf from his neck, standing on the tips of his toes to frustratedly lasso him in. “Gosh! How is it that you’re still growing? You weren’t such a giant before! What’s Miss Kawamoto been feeding you, huh?”

“Here’s a theory: Maybe you’re just shrinking,” he teases. Eiji frowns and throws a mean-spirited glare his way. Ash laughs jovially. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t give me such a glum look! Which reminds me,” Ash leans slightly forward, long bangs dangling down to his chin. “I don’t think you’ve watered me today, _darling_.”

Eiji’s eyes widen at his kittenish tone, finding all of his baseless negativity dissipating with the flirtatious glint reflected in Ash’s stare. He puffs his cheeks before lowering his gaze timidly, pulling the ends of the scarf down until Ash is only centimeters apart from his lips. Eiji ogles him from behind his lashes, not sure if he should still be angry with Ash or kiss him quiet. (He chooses the latter.) It’s a combination of both, actually. It isn’t really a soft caress of their lips, rather, a hard press that’s got Ash grinning against him and Eiji trying to suppress his laughter to keep up with his begrudging front.

“That’s all you get for being taller than me!” Eiji pulls back, flustered and hazy-eyed.

“I can’t help that! It’s in my genes! Get better genes next time, you stint!” Ash says in an almost-whine. (He cringes at his neediness for _more._ )

Eiji drops the matter completely and murmurs to himself as he loops the fabric around his neck a couple of times. Ash watches his fingers poking out from too-long sleeves, almost like little blunt claws. Of all of the thoughts racing in his mind right now, ‘cute’ is the only thing that particularly sticks out from the rest. ‘Cute’ in all lowercase and in a pale pink-lavender gradient. ‘Cute’ with holographic hearts and sparkles and bunnies adorning it. 'Cute' with music box melodies chiming in the background. It didn’t help at all that the tips of Eiji’s fingers were still wrapped in those pastel bandaids. (Oh, he is _definitely_ buying those again.)

“ _Now_ we’re ready to go. Feels nice and warm, doesn’t it?” Eiji whispers, patting his paws on Ash’s chest while admiring his handiwork. Ash gulps, so strangely entranced by the way the sleeves of his hoodie and coat pulled over his wrists and up to his knuckles. He wants to squeal. (God, he has to cover his mouth to stop himself from letting out an embarrassing noise.) Shove his face in a pillow and think about Eiji’s fingers leaving glittery trails all over his body— How did he end up getting so _whipped_ for something as obscure as fucking wounded fingers encased in adhesive with a damned _cat_ adorning the front? This is pathetic—

Ash grabs his hand. Grabs his cutesy sleeve and kisses his palm and every single one of his knuckles. Puts it right there on his cheek and lets Eiji fill in the blanks as he stares intently at the mole next to Eiji’s left eye.

“You’re very _cute_ ,” Ash coughs out, unsure as to why he’s still shy around this guy he’s been dating for _years_ now.

“Oh. You’re very cute too,” says Eiji confusedly. He taps his fingers on his temple and Ash feels like he could explode into confetti and streamers. 

“This ain’t about me. I’m talking about _you_ ,” Ash mutters, pressing his face into his hold.

“Thank… you?” Eiji raises a brow. “You’re being weird, Ash.”

“You’re just— Your sleeves got me feeling some sort of way and now the scarf and your bandaids and— _Butternut squash_.” (Ash has officially malfunctioned. Repairs will cost a nice hug and a reassuring kiss on the forehead.)

“Butternut squash,” Eiji deadpans, trying to treat his boyfriend’s dilemma with the utmost sincerity. “Ah. If you’re scared about the pumpkins outside, squeeze my hand and I’ll protect you, okay?” Eiji interlocks their hands and slides the door open and walks out to their date with the stars, greeted by the chill of the evening air. 

Ash doesn’t even notice the pumpkins jeering at him from their neighbors’ yard; yelling their profanities and threats. He’s just so enamored by his knight in shining armor (or rather overcoat) to even register that he’s surrounded by everything he absolutely dreads. It’s got him thinking that maybe Octobers won’t be so bad from here on out, especially if it’s with squash, scarfs and the one he loves most (in his lovely, too-big clothing).

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! hope you enjoyed!! take care xx <333 (and beware of pumpkins this month)


	11. in limbo (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ash and a game of he loves me, he loves me not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cont. of chapter 9!!!!!
> 
> the vibes: promised land by stephen day

It’s eight o’ clock. The convenience store is playing a pop song Ash is unfamiliar with. The whir of the tube lights overtake the manufactured beats from the stereos. A salaryman is slurping away at his instant ramen and a teenager is manning the register, sighing with every fifth tick of the analog clock. None of these things, not even put together, can diminish his pulse rapping in his ears.

He must’ve been standing here for ten minutes, reaching and retracting his hand from the purple box taunting him from the shelf. Of all the things he’s been through, he isn’t quite sure why _this_ happened to be one of the hardest things he’s faced in a while.

The Trojan is pointing their polished spear at him. The blade is aimed at his head as he provokes him in an ancient tongue. _Just try and touch me,_ he says. _I’ll lob your hands off!_ He’s only confident because he knows Ash is unarmed— has been for years. Though, it _does_ sound tempting. It’s due recompense. These hands weren’t made for caressing and holding his dearest Eiji close. These hands were meant to kill and bathe in blood. It’d be better that way; his hands chopped off cleanly at the wrists to atone for all of the lives taken by it. To stop Eiji from being tainted by his vileness—

This is stupid.

He’s stupid.

And this? It’s a box of fucking condoms that he’s getting all worked up about for no reason at all. He should just grab it and go. Eiji is probably home now, wondering where he is. He’s bobbing that cute little head of his through every door in search of him. Oh, his hair is so fluffy now! His bangs are long and unruly, windswept. They’re long enough to cover his ears. Long enough that he has to blow them out of his face whenever they chat. Long enough to clip—

Ash is undeserving.

Put the box back. You’re rotten for thinking for even a _moment_ that Eiji would let you defile him. He’ll laugh in your face for bringing that home home. He’ll smack them right out of your hand and ridicule you. _Gross_ , he’ll say with a sweet smile. _You’re gross._ For possessing such a high IQ, you’re pretty dumb. Did you really think he meant it when he told you he wanted to be with you? Words are just words. They dissipate in the air as soon as they’re uttered. Forgotten. Meaningless. Everything about you is pitiful. He feels sorry for you. Put that box back. None of it meant a thing. Put it back and never touch it again while you clutch on the last threads of your pride. Never touch Eiji again—

He hears someone behind him clear their throat, snapping him out of his thoughts.

A young man his age is fidgeting and shifting his weight between both legs as he waits for Ash to make his choice. He’s blushing, untouched, with a new shiny gold ring adorned on his left hand and Ash had never felt more envious in his life.

He's _normal_. He'll have a first full of tender moments and dancing fingers gliding over skin as smooth as piano keys; one of hesitant gasps and hearts plucked away like harps. He can't even give Eiji that much with his skin rough and marred all over, a voice that knows no song, and a heart with snapped strings. What is an instrument that cannot be played? One broken beyond repair? Ash figures he is better left to the side where Eiji can stare at him and sigh, thinking of all the beautiful music that had left him too soon.

Ash bites his lip and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The store is playing some old Japanese jazz ballad Ash had heard Eiji hum before whenever he cleans the lenses of his cameras. The cashier is sound asleep on the counter. The salaryman runs into one of his other corporate buddies and indulges in another bowl of ramen with him. The guy behind him is twirling the ring on his finger. Ash takes the box into his hand. Takes it before he can pluck another petal off the flower in this silly game of _He loves me, he loves me not_. He takes it and steps away before he has the chance to put it back.

Ash catches the gaze of the newlywed. Neither of them look away. His brows are furrowed and lips in a slight pout. Ash smiles softly. It’s a silent understanding between men; an unspoken _“good luck”_ as they nod their heads and walk off in opposite directions, never to cross paths again.

“ _Good luck in love and in life.”_

* * *

“You’re home! I was wondering where you—” Ash drops the plastic bag at their feet as he barges inside. He kisses Eiji, hands finding their way home into the tufts of his hair. He slides the front door with his foot, banishing the winter chill and relishing fully in Eiji’s warmth, not wanting to part for even a second. As he unlaces his shoes, he settles on planting quick pecks onto Eiji’s lips, staggering back as he kicks them off. The way he’s making each kiss seem so desperate makes Eiji want to laugh, but he was feeling it too; this need for contact and heat and _Ash_.

They twirl and curl around each other, like some kind of lazy ballroom dancing set to the sound of Eiji’s gasps. Eiji takes a step back. Ash takes one forward. Ash’s fingers trail down the nape of his neck, to his shoulder blades, and stop at his waist. Eiji clasps onto the lapels of his coat until his knuckles are white, refusing to be away from him. Each kiss becomes more and more feverish, quick and misaimed. Their lungs are huffing, filled completely with each other. Ash, wanting to feel more of him, slides his hands under the knit of Eiji’s sweater and smirks against his mouth as Eiji shivers at the ice-cold of his fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Eiji chuckles and pulls back to cup Ash’s face. His eyes are so sparkly, like they could see beyond the Milky Way.

“Loving on you,” says Ash.

“You’re loving on me extra today. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Eiji loosely wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down until their foreheads are pressed together.

“I love on you this much every day.”

“Yes, of course. But this is a different kind of loving.”

“How do you mean?”

“ _Spi-cy_ ,” Eiji says, fanning his mouth with his tongue out.

“This is ‘spicy’ for you?” Ash laughs. “Then what do you call it when it’s late at night and we’re—”

Eiji covers Ash’s mouth with his palm before he could finish his sentence.

“You and your teasing! This leads directly into what you were about to say!” Eiji pouts and Ash just holds him tighter. He kisses the tip of his nose and sighs, remembering about the plastic bag just a couple of feet away from them.

There’s this dreadful sensation creeping up on him. All the warmth Eiji had blanketed him with is suddenly disappearing. The color is fading away from his body. The glint in Eiji’s eyes are now dull mirrors of his diffidence. The past’s winter is blowing at him, breathing on him hard like some mad dog. He feels like a fool. Maybe it’s pointless to try when they’ve been together this long, untouched. Maybe this is the only way Ash can call Eiji his—

“Ash?” Eiji is looking directly at him. He’s peering into him. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“In my thoughts again.”

“Would you like me to come in as well?”

“You’re there already,” he tells him.

Eiji clears his throat, flustered. “Well, if it pertains to me, I believe I should hear about them.”

“I don’t know,” Ash tells him. “It’s not very nice when I say it all out loud. ”

“No matter.” Eiji taps him on the nose. “Whether it’s about your day, your stories, a joke, or a dark cloud, I’d love to hear about all of it. I like the sound of your voice and I value all of your words. ”

Another step back. Another forward. Another kiss and a smile against lips. They’re swaying in a meadow full of the flowers he’d plucked petals from, though they’re flowers full of _He loves mes_ rather than _He loves me nots._

“Sometimes I have to feel sorry for you. You’ve fallen for a basket case,” Ash laments, profile slotting into the groove of his neck and shoulder. 

Eiji chuckles and pats his hair. “Don’t say that.”

“I thought you value all of my words.”

“Well, maybe _most_ of them. See, I don’t particularly like when you badmouth Nori-san and Vicky and Dick.” His fingers slide down the nape of his neck and he shivers at the featherlight touch. “And most definitely yourself. You’re the most remarkable man I’ve come to know, you know? You’re first place. Second and third, too. Fourth, fifth and so on. You simply _must_ believe me when I say it, Ash. You must! You must!” 

Eiji has to fist Ash’s coat for leverage as he hops up to smooch him all over again to get his point across. Oh, when Eiji says it like _that_ , when he’s brought the damning evidence of warm hands and treacly kisses to the table, it makes all of Ash’s insecurities seem like great fallacies. There was never another side to the coin. He remembers all of the times Eiji had planted his lips onto him. All of the times he had made him sing soundless melodies with each trace of his finger on the pink of his scars. He remembers all the words and phrases he’d whisper in his ear in English and Japanese and somewhere in between. Words that seemed to cling like the summer would on skin, gilting every inch with pale yellow. And when he thinks of both of these things together, Ash realizes how much he is loved. Loved completely and absolutely by Eiji.

“I believe you,” Ash whispers. There should have never been a doubt. “I believe you.”

“As you should!” Eiji huffs and hugs him close.

“While we’re at it,” muses Ash, “I’ve decided that you’re first through last. How does that sound?”

“Your most remarkable man?” Eiji punches him playfully on the shoulder. “You flatter me!”

“Oh, just in general,” he hums. “My end all, be all. It’s always been you. It’ll _always_ be you.”

“Yeah. You’re the same for me.”

“And I think I’m ready to take the step. I want to love you in every possible way, if you’ll take me as I am.” Ash is buzzing with nervousness, or is it excitement? Adoration, most definitely.

“You say the silliest things, Ash. I’ve taken all of you already. You’ve taken root from the start.” Eiji takes his hands into his own and contains his jittering. He turns them into butterflies.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally going to be longer, but i decided to split this chapter since i think ash and eiji's first time should be it's own standalone chapter. or maybe even fic. who knows what the future holds? :'-)
> 
> anyways. i love these stinkers so much. i hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!!!! thank you for reading!!!
> 
> my [twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/selfetish)


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